


He was golden like her

by Moonblackwolf



Category: Dracula & Related Fandoms, Dracula (TV 2020)
Genre: Canon Rewrite, Episode: S01E01 The Rules of the Beast, M/M, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:33:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22174849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonblackwolf/pseuds/Moonblackwolf
Summary: Those who see the sun every day say with disregard: "What will those four rays be!". (…)--a rewriting from Dracula's point of view of the scene on the roof of the castle
Relationships: Count Dracula/Jonathan Harker
Comments: 8
Kudos: 251





	He was golden like her

Those who see the sun every day say with disregard: " What will those four rays be! ". Small ants busy all day, deluded that their existences have a real purpose and too busy with their small and pathetic lives, to appreciate true beauty.

But Dracula stood on them, on the crowd, that mass of ants that he despised. Singing insects with their continuous buzzing and gossip about worldliness. Often sheep, in their diligent bending and following whoever took the lead, the only characteristic that he could consider useful. Dracula, who provided that a yellow light touched his face again, would have given anything.

Perhaps that was why he had decided to bring Johnny here, to this sheltered and intimate place from which he could observe from above how his presence chased away the shadows to which he belonged and modeled his land.

" Now, if you don't mind, I need you to do one last thing to me. I haven't seen her in hundreds of years. Describe her to me. " Asked the count, having laid the his cloak and lying next to the dying man, who barely exhaled his last breaths. It was almost poetic, he thought briefly, that to divide the infinite from the finite there was only such a thin line. And the mortal threw himself towards the immortal, perhaps unwittingly holding out his hand.

" Who " were the tired, whispered words to which Dracula promptly replied. It would have been a shame if his dear Johnny had died before receiving at least the answer to his question.

" I was not being able to see her except from behind thick curtains, but really looking at her only in the paintings. Some painters transform her into a yellow spot, other transform the yellow spot into her. But even the last have never been able to really make her shine on the canvas the way she deserves. Neither did the poets who described her give justice. I also heard her in Mozart's notes, you know? " And maybe he should have spared him, thinking about it, so much wasted talent. But he had been more impetuous a century ago than the heinous misdeeds he had done in the past, Dracula would have said he was softening up. Ah, old age. " If the memory and the positions of the shadows do not deceive me, it should be sitting west of that mountain over there at this time of year. And red, red as blood. But what does a lawyer see? A man of letters and words? " 

Although the sarcastic tone never left his voice or his gaze, he was genuinely curious about the answer. The thirst for knowledge in him was almost comparable to the thirst for blood, the blood that was lives, knowledge, emotions. And the knowledge of the time had not managed to sweep this characteristic that had distinguished and intrinsic to him in his early days as a human being, curiosity.

What your eyes see, Johnny. Let me see the sun through them.- That was what he was really asking to him.

" Look for yourself. "

" But it would burn me. " He had tried numerous times if she could be deceived. After all, not being able to move during the day was as much a dilemma as a problem. But each of his experiments had failed. The test subjects had screamed and cursed and pleaded, before inevitably turning to ash.

" Good. "

Apparently Johnny had decided to sulk him, he was so touchy at times, denying access to his thoughts. Dracula smiled almost tenderly at this rather childish rebellion.

" Fair enough. " he said, and while the words scattered in the air were reserved for death and his fate if he had "lived" beyond it, his gaze and attention were enraptured by his figure. From Johnny, who watched the sun, basking in her presence. And what an appearance it was in the light of sunset. Eyes that reflected the firmament, hair of the color of the oaks that now shone, clear and bright like her, the ashesy skin lapped by the last touches of gold, a sign of decadence scattered everywhere on him. And for a moment Dracula thought he was looking at the sun after six hundred long years.

Now he knew the reason for his courtesy, Johnny was a being of light, after all he knew that he did not deserve to be barbarously killed in the dark secrets of his castle, but to feel the wind on his face for the last time, to admire the peaks snow-capped mountains and she, who is close to sleep, sadly greeted one of her creatures. This was his gift for his dear Johnny, the sun.

" Spare me. "

And to think that they were having a nice time together. With those words the silence had been broken, as had the mood. Ah, humans.

" How? Answer me Johnny, how " He jumped up from the floor, a gesture caused by the pure sense of irritation that felt in him. Why did he have to ruin everything with those silly words? There was no point in sparing him and leaving him free to run away from him, to his lovely girlfriend. Johnny knew many, too many things. Not only his intentions for England, as his fresh new pantry, but also the ways in which he could be killed.

" I ... I won't..."

Dracula sighed, even though he didn't need it " You won't what? Oh, you won't tell anyone about me or try to stop me? You would let me kill all those people - and you know I will - and you would be in Silence? Alive, but with guilt and shame carved in the hearts of all those dead, whose cause, reading the newspaper, only you will know? " He laughed " Some lawyer you turned out to be, Johnny. "

Had he put too much hope into him? Yet Johnny had come so far. Was it possible that death had put out that fire that he had glimpsed in him? Or had his imagination deluded him?

The grip on his legs was weak, like that of a child clinging to his mother's skirts, asking for comfort. But Dracula was not capable of a vulgar feeling such as pity, and he watched with pleasure how Johnny strengthened himself, climbing on him, to reach his gaze.

" If you promise me that knowing what I'm going to do in no way, I'll spare your life. " He was lying, obviously it was a trick. His demise was marked when he agreed to come to his homeland. But Dracula was curious once again. He wanted to make sure that Johnny's soul had been properly broken, corrupted.

Even the strongest men before death became frightened lambs in their crying, pleading in vain. Why did they accept the plans of their God so easily as ineffable, but not the inevitability of death? What did it matter if this knocked on their door as young and strong or old and shriveled? Their fate was underground. And he was somewhat sorry that Johnny turned out to be one of them.

" Count Dracula, if you let me live than I... I will do everything in my power to stop you. "

" Quite right. " The sudden wave of paternal pride that crossed him along with something that could be affected, showed on his face in the form of a short smile. He rocked his face, his pointed nails brushed against the bristly beard, satisfied by the young man. Until the end it had proved more interesting and fun than many toys it had in the past. "That's my Johnny." Johnny, who before the cold gaze of death, did not lean against it, stooped, and resisted bad weather like broom, but stood up straight, the beat a constant thunder, and his eyes in the abyss. He hadn't been wrong about him after all.

The morning quiet was broken again by the snap of his neck and the thud that ensued. Johnny had collapsed just like a rag doll, while Dracula leaned on the parapet, knowing he had to be patient and have to wait before the transformation took place. If it had happened.  
He was again amazed, however, when the body began to twist. Usually several weeks of rest were needed, but here is Johnny who was already beginning to moult. And... was he trying to escape from him? How was that possible? Usually those who transformed fell under his complete influence, submitting to his will, designating him as master. Apart from hunger, almost nothing remained of their personality. Oh, but not Johnny, he watched him crawl and then get up on the ledge, as if he were a bird ready to fly.

" Stay. You could be my finest bride. " When he understood his intentions, he tried to stop him with languid words, because she - as beautiful as she was cruel - prevented him from approaching. Didn't she see that even the hint of self-awareness changed everything? Maybe after all that time he had found someone who had the potential to be equal to him? He could not allow the bird to leave the nest, he would not have survived without knowing how to feed himself, but above all he did not want him to go away. " Johnny, you are like me. "

" I am not like you. "

The pain caused by the light, though reflected, was inexpressible, but all he could feel for what seemed like hours. And when that too was consumed, Dracula waited, and waited again, afflicted by another type of torment, until he was sure that she was sleeping, before descending along the sheer walls of the manor to look for him.

But his attempt, which lasted until the following dawn, was of no use. The waters that had swallowed him appeared dark and cloudy in the light of the pale lunar disk, but he knew they were devoid of his Johnny, as well as the silent forest that surrounded the river. He howled like a wounded animal, regretted that something so wonderful and special had slipped through his fingers, dissolving into the air like smoke.

On the second day he destroyed everything he could find in the castle, the moans and words of comfort of the other two wives were of no use, asking why he had not already left for England, nothing remained intact except the room that had hosted Johnny in his living room. When she stood tall and proud in the sky, it was the only place Dracula found comforting besides his coffin, the perfume of him impregnated in the walls and on the sheets.  
The third decided to look for him in person, joining the wolves, and the fourth in a fit of fury, which he could not well explain to himself, on the way of the search he slaughtered and killed an entire village.

He soon lost count of the days, which passed in a red spot. His only comfort was the thought of finding him and bringing him back to where he belonged. It was his. Sometimes the thoughts of possession merged with the desire to show him all that his human knowledge ignored. The world was an unexplored place after all, and he would have been happy to share his knowledge with him.

Jonathan Harker had died in the light, but his dearest and most beautiful creation, his wife, would have arisen from the shadows. And Dracula could not wait to rejoin him.

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to take this opportunity to thank those who have reviewed my first story, because probably I would not have published this short interlude in Dracula's thoughts, that I hope is quite good, if it wasn't for your kind words. So, thank you. I know it's not the sequel that many asked, but that rooftop scene was so beautiful that I wanted to share my thoughts on it.


End file.
